The Tower & The Child: The Alchemy of Letting Go

When I pulled The Tower this morning, I smiled the way you do when sometimes the cards call your soul’s bluff.

Scorpio season always brings lessons in destruction and renewal—but this year, the themes are sharper.

I’m walking through my Chiron return, a season of reckoning and rebirth, with my progressed Moon in Scorpio illuminating what must be released.

So it feels fitting to write about one of my own Tower moments—the kind that unravels everything you think you know about love, faith, and control.

As someone born with a natal complex with Pluto, I’ve known my fair share of collapse and resurrection.

But one particular initiation—the one that first cracked my heart wide open—began the day I became a foster parent.

The Call to Nurture

Over a decade ago, I answered the quiet call to foster.

But, like many things in life, you don’t realize what that commitment means until you are in the middle of it—until your heart becomes both sanctuary and battlefield.

Sometimes, fostering is simple sacred service: a temporary place of healing until a child can safely return home.

But there are also cases where your intuition whispers that returning home may not bring safety or stability.

Those are the ones that keep you awake at night—the ones that test your trust in the Divine’s plan.

My very first placement was such a case.

A bright, beautiful child whose spirit seemed to shine despite all he’d endured.

For six months, I was his entire world—and he, mine.

I took time off work to care for him full-time, channeling every ounce of love and intention into creating safety, rhythm, and warmth.

At the time, I was just beginning to practice manifestation and energy work.

Each month, I visualized his future: a home filled with laughter, security, and belonging.

I set intentions, cleared trauma, and believed I was co-creating the outcome with Spirit.

And miracles did happen.

His health improved, his joy returned, his energy radiated wholeness again.

Then came the call.

A family member—previously deemed unfit—was granted custody.

My knees buckled. The anger, grief, and disbelief came in waves.

And after the storm, only silence remained.

It was in that silence that I finally began to hear what the Divine had been whispering all along.

The Fall

That silence became my teacher.

It showed me that I had not been surrendering—I had been bargaining.

I had wrapped control in the language of faith, gripping the outcome because I was terrified of losing what I had grown to so deeply love.

It was a revelation that cut straight to my core wound:

that deep, ancient belief that safety depends on control.

That love will abandon me unless I manage every variable.

That the unknown cannot be trusted.

But true surrender is not passive.

It is an act of sacred courage—a willingness to release your timeline and trust that the Divine intelligence within all things knows more than you do.

When I finally unclenched my heart and let go, I felt something remarkable: the quiet hum of peace beneath all of the layers of pain.

It was as if the Universe exhaled through me, whispering, “Now, let Me.”

The Tower fell, but in its rubble, I found truth.

That love does not need control to be real.

That faith begins precisely where certainty ends.

That the soul’s evolution often hides inside the heartbreaks we resist most.

The Alchemy of Allowing

This is the Scorpionic art—the sacred death that precedes rebirth.

To allow is not to give up; it is to stop interfering with the Divine choreography.

When we surrender, the ego mourns what it cannot fix, but the soul begins to bloom in the dark.

That’s the paradox: our deepest transformation doesn’t come from holding on—it comes from allowing collapse to do its most sacred work.

The moment I stopped clinging to how I thought things should unfold, the energy shifted.

Grace entered.

I began to feel life moving through me rather than against me.

It was as if the Universe took my broken plans and wove them into a pattern too vast for me to initially see.

This was not loss.

It was initiation.

And through it, I was reborn into my Empress self—the mother who loves without possession, who is learning to create without demand, and who trusts the unseen cycles of death and rebirth. Breaking the generational cycles before me, and helping to heal ancestral patterning that has been carried in my lineage for far too long.

The Rebuild

From that soil of surrender, everything changed.

My intuition opened.

My spiritual gifts began to softly awaken.

My understanding of love transformed.

Looking back, I see that The Tower never came to destroy me—it came to free me.

It stripped away the illusion that I was ever in control, revealing the truth that I have always been held.

Sometimes grace wears the mask of devastation.

Sometimes love’s highest act is to let go.

And sometimes, the collapse you fear most is simply your soul rearranging itself into greater alignment.

Final Blessing

If you are standing in your own Tower moment, trembling at the edge of surrender, know this:

You are not being punished—you are being purified.

The fire is making space for what’s real.

Let it.

Because when you finally release the need to control the outcome,

you make room for miracles that were waiting for your yes all along.

Wishing you much love along your journey, now and always,

Seraph